6,000 words? I thought that was a record? Forget 6K—7K is where it's at! Actually, closer now to 8,000 than 7,000. I'm not entirely sure how it happened; I thought aiming for a typical 8 page, 4-5K update was a reasonable expectation at this point. But this got… HUGE. Outrageously huge.

And personally, I blame 3 for being insightful, and 6 for being adorable. I've found that between 3's intelligent observations, and 6's innocent observations, they both have a tendency to ramble. A lot.

Since I am ridiculously busy these days and have no idea when I'll be updating again, I think it's better for you guys to have a longer, more interesting chapter to tide you over until I can get back to you. Luckily, the next installment FINALLY has a definite direction—the next three or four of them have been a blur of possibilities. But after months of mulling, it's actually coming together. :D

Also, Dixie is a genius. Maybe even an evil genius. Or maybe just a contrary genius. It's hard to tell.

Also, also, PI IS BAAAAAACK! 8D

2222222222

Waiting

2222222222

As her parents carried her out of the library for the first time, Dixie gave a shrill cry of alarm at the bright, blinding thing glaring into her young eyes. Everything was suddenly so bright—so bright that it stung her eyes and warmed her skin. Like the fire that tantalized her so as it danced on the tip of a match, only a thousand-fold. Along with all the sensations that it came with, it was overwhelming and frightening.

Was that thing the same thing that her family called The Sun? She squirmed in her father's arms, burying her face in his shoulder in a futile attempt to hide. She wished he would take her back inside the cool, dark library, where the blinding, burning sun couldn't find her. But alas, he didn't seem to understand why she was crying so, and only carried her farther out into the world.

"Oh, precious girl, don't cry," 9 insisted, trying to soothe her by gently rubbing her back. "It's just the sun. It's a part of our world. It's wonderful."

"Don't rush her, dearest," 7 advised beside him. "Four months old, and she's never seen the light of day. It must be a lot for a baby. Give her eyes a few minutes to adjust, at least."

9 supposed this was all true. He was so used to the sun, and the constant brightness of the outside world. He hadn't considered for a second that his child might find it overwhelming. But yes, when she finally grew accustomed to it, he was certain she would take right to the world outside their home. She was already too much like both her parents to be any other way.

April was only a week or so away now, and the last of the snow had melted away the previous day. Grass and young flowers had taken over the courtyard, which was as far as they intended to take Dixie today. It was a safe and familiar area. And it had been transformed so suddenly by the robe of springtime that they hardly recognized it. It was like walking into an enchanted, magical world, where any number of amazing things could pop out and surprise them.

They sat down in a patch of soft, dry grass at the base of a statue. One of its delicate, perfectly carved hands had fallen to the ground long ago, already partially consumed by moss. Its cupped palm faced heavenward, creating a sort of bench, and a conveniently perfect spot to lay a baby down. As they sat together, talking and playing, 9 got the pleasant impression that this had just become their spot. He supposed they would come here together for many years to come. Maybe when Dixie was old enough to run around, he would build her a playground here.

But for now, he liked her just the way she was. Instead of peek-a-boo, he decided to play word games with her; considering her vocabulary had increased to five whole words in a week, he felt like word games were appropriate. She could now say dada, no, yes, mama, and book—in that order. For some reason, though, she refused to address her mother directly, even though she knew how. They were attempting fix that in the form of a game; but the clever little girl didn't seem to be buying it.

"Look at this guy," 7 said, pointing to her husband. "Who's that?"

"Adada!" Dixie cried right away.

"That's right, baby. What about me?" She pointed to herself. "Who's this?"

"No," the baby chirped instead, deviously stuffing her fist into her mouth, as if to say, "Oh look, my mouth is full. Guess I can't say anything now. It's rude to talk with your mouth full, you know."

7 was visibly unimpressed with this; but Dixie appeared to be enjoying herself. Trying not to chuckle too hard, 9 took his turn and pointed to himself.

"Who's this, Dixie?"

"Adadada!" she squealed, much more enthusiastic than before.

"Very good, smart girl. Now look," he insisted, pointing to 7. "Who's this?"

"No. No! Adada!

"No, Dixie, this is mommy. Say mommy. Mommy."

"No!"

Just as an experiment, he wordlessly pointed back to himself.

"Adadadadada!"

And then back to 7.

"No!"

It felt like a face/palm was in order. As he let his face fall frustratedly into his palm7 took her baby's little hand in her own.

"Oh, I had hoped you hadn't gotten that from me," she lamented. "Come on, Dixie, say mommy. Please say mommy. Please? Just once?"

Dixie cooed vaguely, unsure if they were still playing or not. Even if she didn't understand every word, she certainly seemed to understand the sadness and frustration in her mother's voice.

"You sure love that daddy, don't you? You love me too… Right?"

9 put his arm around her. "Honey, of course she loves you," he insisted, sweetly kissing her cheek. "She's just playing with us. She's already figured out how to beat us at our own game. That's a big thing, for such a little baby."

"I know… I just wish she'd say my name. She can do it—we've all heard it before. But she won't. It makes me kind of sad, you know?"

"Yeah, I do. She'll get it, eventually."

A little while later, he picked Dixie up and sat down in the bench, sitting her down in his lap. He began humming a random, merry little tune, making it up as he went along, clapping the baby's hands together in time. She seemed to enjoy it, and occasionally gave a long, loud squeal that sounded almost like she was singing right along with him. She also smiled and laughed a lot, especially when the tempo either sped up or slowed down. 9 was so happy that she liked music. It had come to be one of his favorite things about being alive, and it had always been one 7's favorite things, as well. He was glad it was so easy to share with their daughter.

7 sat in the grass, listening contentedly to his humming, watching them play. She plucked a few blades of grass and began braiding them tightly together into a long rope; when she reached the end, she tied the ends together into a circle, weaving the loose ends carefully back into the braid. Observing her work, deeming it satisfactory, she set the circle to the side and made another. Then she made a third, much smaller than the first two; she left the ends long, trailing down like ribbons, and grinned with particular pride at her final creation.

Placing the first circle on her own head like a crown, she stood up and placed the second on 9's head.

"It suits you," she said sweetly, kissing the top of his head. She knelt down and placed the last circle on Dixie's head, with the ends trailing behind her back.

"And I made one for you, sweetheart. There, now. You look like a princess."

Dixie cooed in wonder, not sure what was on her head or why it was there, but enchanted by how regal her mother looked. She reached for her with an earnest look in her eyes.

"Amama!"

"Oh feh." 7 scooped up her baby and held her to her chest. "I'm only good for one thing, aren't I?" she teased.

"Amamama—" Dixie cut herself off by latching onto her mother's toggle, and she began to suckle happily.

"It's okay. I don't really mind." 7 planted her free hand on her hip and turned away, surveying the whole courtyard. She took a deep breath of the warm spring air, and released it in a short, decisive sigh.

"9, I believe I shall start a garden out here," she announced.

It sounded almost ridiculous, considering everything he once knew about his wife. He came to stand beside her, to see where she was looking. She didn't seem to have picked a particular spot; but the entire side of the courtyard she was focusing on was full of possibility.

"I'll fill it full of flowers," she continued. "They'll grow tall, like a forest, and Dixie can play in them when she's older. And the twins can study them, and press them to keep in their books. We can learn all about them, and how they grow, and our courtyard will be full of color all year long, and… This doesn't sound like me at all, does it?"

"Curiouser and curiouser," he agreed, slipping his arm around her waist. "But I like it. It's going to be a magnificent garden, my moonbeam."

She smiled and snuggled into him. "My sunshine," she answered, earning a gentle kiss on her forehead. She looked down at her nursing baby, and caressed her soft fingers.

"And our little morning star."

Dixie cooed in response; but her mouth was full, so it was hard to tell what she was trying to say. Thoroughly satisfied, 7 looked back into the courtyard and nodded her head resolutely.

"I'd better get cracking then. It may be a little late for spring flowers, but maybe I can be ready for summer, don't you think?"

2222222222

The builders had promised to work on the technical parts, which were somewhat straightforward, but hopelessly daunting for the twins. Instead, they kept their end of the deal by measuring and stitching their new skins. They wouldn't have had it any other way, really. Deciding on their own physical details was a lot more fun to do themselves, without hovering over someone else's shoulder to make sure it was being done right.

For starters, they had chosen their original material to work with. It was the same clean white cotton they had lived in all their lives; and though they were maturing significantly, they felt that it still suited them best. Perhaps it always would, and they didn't mind. But the built in cloaks and hoods had been left behind. A snuggly head-covering to hide inside had been fitting for young, easily frightened children; and costume-like capes they could never remove had been equally fitting. But that time was over, now. Their bodies were shaped just like everyone else's this time.

However, in a spare hour of their time, they fashioned themselves a pair of scholarly robes, in the same dark blue of their hoods. They took their inspiration from a wizard they had seen in a book once; he had seemed very wise and powerful to them, and they supposed they were alike, in that way. A single gray button fastened each one in the middle of the chest, and the hems would reach almost to their toes; the sleeves were wide at the hems. The robes also had hoods, mostly for looks; the twins didn't know how often they would actually wear them from now on. But it was a piece of themselves that they weren't quite ready to let go of yet.

They chose small blue buttons for their new closures. 3 had three of them in a vertical line, over his heart; he particularly liked that, since he couldn't have them on his right side. He was right-handed, and couldn't have buttons getting in his way whenever he tried to use his dominant hand. 4 only had two buttons, in a horizontal line across the top of her chest. 3 wasn't sure at first how to feel about that; he found it immodest, and fretted that his sister should keep her new breasts covered as much as possible. But 4 rolled her eyes at him.

"They're not breasts, they're buttons," she corrected. "Anyway, they're just for decoration. Human breasts were only good for feeding babies, and these won't even be able to do that."

"You should still keep them covered, sis. It's indecent."

"Okay, okay, fine. You worry about your body, and let me worry about mine, okay?"

3 still didn't like it. But he rolled his eyes at his sister and went on with his own work. While he had left his own design fairly plain—pretty much the same as it had been before, but taller—4 notably took every stride to give her new body as much character as possible. It had always been next to impossible to tell right away if they were both boys, or girls, or one and another. Given this chance, 4 wanted no more of that. The way she had cut and sewn her midsection cinched her waist in slightly, for a curvier appearance. Her limbs were more slender and graceful than her brother's.

She had also conceived a brilliant new method of adding hair to her design. She began by selecting a spool of fine brown thread, and a needle with a large eye. Then she traced a hairline with chalk around her new head. Threading three lengths of thread into the needle, she drew them almost all the way through a weave inside the hairline. She ended by tying the ends within the skin together, with the thick knot on the inside. The end result was a thick curtain of nut brown hair, reaching down to her waist. It had taken her days of tedious, patient work, and almost an entire spool of thread. But she was immensely proud and very pleased.

3 wondered vaguely, as his sister's new form took on a very different shape while his remained pretty much the same, if this defeated the purpose of them being twins. But alas, he supposed it was the truth. They intended to spend the ages between 13 and 17 in these bodies. And that meant that meant that his sister would be growing into a woman. He hadn't planned on it in the slightest, before. But now he figured that he should have seen it coming. Human females physically matured earlier and faster than males. And while their own bodies were very inorganic, their souls were still very human. If 7 had gotten a say in how she was shaped, she probably would have designed something very close to what 4 had worked so carefully to craft.

But 7 didn't need that, 3 decided with a smile. 7 was feminine and beautiful all on her own, because being a woman was most of her original purpose. That made her beautiful all on its own. 4 was also female, but their creator had admitted once that this was partially just a happy accident. In the first place, she had been designed as a child; in the second, her purpose was to be a bookish scholar who didn't really care what she looked like.

That last part had sort of failed, because 4 made a point to make everything she did beautiful, including herself, sometimes. 3 didn't care if he was dirty or messy, but he was a little boy. 4 was a girl, and felt inclined to care just by dint of being a girl. In fact, when he didn't care if he looked presentable or not, she took it upon herself to care for him. He didn't always appreciate her fussing, but he guessed that someone had to do it. He also guessed that that was just how girls are, in general, and he also guessed that ultimately, he didn't mind it.

I wonder what Pi would think of her new body? She was, like, almost an adult, and her body was no more girlish than anyone else's. Did it ever cross anyone's mind that our women might want to look like women? 'Cause the ones I've seen don't. That's kind of weird…

3 had already made his new body taller; but he couldn't think of any drastic changes he could make. In the end, he looked like a slightly smaller version of all the other men in his family—straight-lined and kind of lanky, the only obvious, unique decoration being his closure. That was a fair standard, he supposed, and he had more than met it. But 4 had taken the opportunity to think and work harder, and she had definitely raised the bar. He was very proud of her accomplishment, though he wished he had had the same opportunity.

Maybe in a few years, when they reached full maturity and made adult bodies for themselves, he would find a little more opportunity.

They diligently worked on their project all through April; and other than leaking one or two details to their family, the finished result remained a surprise. Soon it was May. Gemini had risen, and their birthday was drawing nearer. And finally, all the pieces were finished and ready to be joined. Because they had to help with the last stages, 9 and 2 were the first to see their new bodies. And they were very impressed.

"You've clearly put a lot of heart into this," 2 commented as he looked over their skins. "We had been worried at first that you might still have second thoughts, you know. I'm glad this wasn't the case. You're growing up to be fine young people, and we're very proud of that."

They were pretty proud of themselves, as well. Even though there wasn't much they could do to help, they watched as their dad and grandfather attached the two sets of framework and wiring to their new skins. Their bodies looked ready to accommodate souls, now.

"Dad, what's that box in our wiring?" 3 asked.

"Oh yeah," 9 said slowly. "I know you asked us not to… But we've included voice boxes in your works anyway."

"Dad…"

"Hey, it could work. You never know."

"What if it doesn't?"

"Isn't it worth a little risk? And if it doesn't work out, we can always remove them. It's easy enough, and it won't hurt."

4 tugged earnestly on her dubious twin's arm. "He's right, 3. It could work. Can't we just give it a try?"

"…I guess so. The worst that could happen is that nothing happens. I kind of like those odds," 3 finally agreed, daring to be a little optimistic.

They also noted some new things about their engineered pieces. They now had metal toes like everyone else, a feature they had particularly looked forward to. 3's eye casings were brassy, and 4's were silvery. Though her hands were obviously smaller, her silver fingers were longer and more graceful—good fingers for writing left-handed cursive like she did. 3's hands were larger, of course, strong, sturdy and manly. And he noticed at once that the middle finger on his right hand was nearly the length of his index finger. For some reason, it had always been disproportionate and given him a hard time writing; but no more.

They had thought of everything. It was the best birthday present they could have asked for.

On the evening of May 25, the night sky was perfectly crystal clear. 9 and 2 led the twins to the middle of the courtyard, to a special place they had prepared for the ritual. They two children looked up, marveling at the beauty of the stars. There were so many, it was a little difficult to find box-shaped Gemini among them. But when they finally did find it… Wow. It was so clear, and so many stars were visible, it was like there were enough to give each heavenly twin a face.

"I'm glad this is the last thing we'll see with these eyes," 4 commented quietly.

"And the first ting we'll see with our new ones," 3 added with a smile.

A small bonfire had been lit in the middle of the courtyard, illuminating a large part of it. Their new bodies had already been brought out, resting on the opposite side of the fire, facing the east. When they came to the edge of the fire, they all stopped and paused for a long, solemn minute. What was about to happen… It was so big. 9 took a deep breath and looked down at his adopted children.

"Lie down," he instructed.

The twins did as they were told, lying down on their backs, facing the sparkling heavens. They also realized they were pointing toward the west, and that it could not be a coincidence. 9 knelt beside his son, a slightly nervous but fatherly smile on his face, and patted the boy on the head.

"Well, this is it, kids. Are you feeling okay?"

3 nodded vigorously. "Excited," he answered right away.

"Good. Very good. So, 3, you'll be first, since you're older. It won't take very long, but I want you to close your eyes for this, okay? And 4, I want you to do the same."

"But why?" the girl asked.

"I don't want either of you to see this."

Holding the talisman closer to his chest, 2 joined them on the ground and continued to explain the impending procedure, in his kindly, doctoral way.

"Now then, the transfer will take less than a minute for each of you. 3, you will wake before your sister, of course, so you must try your very best to remain calm. I'm not sure exactly how you will feel; but rest assured, my boy, there isn't a thing to worry about. Your dear old dad and I have taken care of everything else."

"2, will it… Hurt?" he asked.

"Oh, like this? Hm… I'm afraid I don't know."

3 couldn't help squirming a little. 4 reached over and took his hand, easing his unease at once. 2 put his hand down on her shoulder and gave her gentle squeeze, calling her undivided attention.

"Regrettably, you will feel it when your brother leaves this vessel. And when that happens, you mustn't panic; you must remain as calm as you can. I agree with your father, that you should keep your eyes closed for this; it's nothing you need to be looking at. The first transfer will be completed quickly, and then it will be your turn. Do you want me to warn you when I begin, or would you rather not expect it?"

4 gulped hard, not sure which would prove the better failsafe. "Um… If it's going to be that quick, maybe it's better if you don't say anything," she finally decided.

"Very well, my dear. That is very brave of you, you know."

"Growing up."

"Indeed you are." He rose to his feet and stood solidly above them, pressing the first two buttons of the sequence. He paused before pressing the finally button.

"Are you ready, 3?"

3 squinched his eyes shut, but couldn't keep from grinning.

"Yeah. Ready."

2222222222

6 was nervous. He couldn't help it. The talisman was theirs, the way it was supposed to be, precisely for things like what was happening tonight. They could grow and age, have children and raise families, thanks to that enigmatic blob of copper. But given everything else that it was capable of… 9 and 2 knew what they were doing, and they had everything under control, and they would never try to hurt the twins, but still. So many things could go wrong…

At least there hadn't been any visions, and the Voice that brought them had been silent all evening. Surely, if something had been doomed to go wrong, he would have foreseen it. Everything must be going according to plan. It must be.

The twins had carefully guarded their work. He hadn't seen what their new bodies looked like yet. He wondered how much taller they would be when they came back. He wondered if they had blatantly changed the color of their skin, just for the heck of it. He wondered if they would look like the 3 and 4 he had always known, or if he would recognize them at all.

But he was more than certain that, in any case, that 3 would be very handsome, and 4 would be very beautiful. She was already very beautiful, without a doubt the loveliest thing he had ever seen. He couldn't wait to see her new self.

As the rest of them waited in the common room, gathered for the return of their four missing, 6 sat alone before the fireplace. He sat with his legs crossed, his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands, gazing in silence into the dancing flames. He wondered if they might impart a vision to let him know what was going on outside. Something to show him that his anxiety was in vain, and that there was no need to worry.

As if sensing his distress, and that the fire wasn't going to be very insightful in this instance, 7 had come to sit by him. She was so graceful, and he was so lost in thought, he didn't realize she had come until she had sat down. He jumped a bit to find another presence so suddenly within his personal space; but seeing it was just his big sister, with a sweet, kind smile on her lovely face, he relaxed.

She put her arm around him and pulled him close to her. "Are you excited?" she asked. She sounded like she was pretty excited, herself. But 6 shook his head vaguely.

"Nervous," he answered, barely louder than a whisper. "What if something bad happens?"

"Have you seen something?"

"No. I don't know what's going to happen. I'm scared."

"Don't be scared; they all know what they're doing," 7 insisted gently. She gave him a reassuring squeeze and kissed the top of his head. "Would you like to sit in my lap until they come back?"

"No, no, I'll just fall asleep," he answered. He would have loved to climb into the safe, snuggly sister-chair; but it was one of the few things that calmed his raging mind so quickly and easily. A chance to sleep that deeply and peacefully was so rare; he could never help but take it.

In fact, just having her so close, holding him so safe was enough to still his fears. And he felt so relaxed, he thought he might fall asleep just leaning against her. To stay awake, he craned his neck around to see where the others were. The common room seemed so empty, but only because it was so quiet. 8 was quiet, of course, sitting in his usual place against the wall, not really concerned that anything could go wrong. 5 was sitting in the middle of the room, building a lantern for the base upstairs; the winds had changed directions with the spring, so now their fires didn't constantly blow out. Now that it wasn't a futile and pointless waste of energy, their one-eyed brother was eager to have the base full of light.

But 6 had to stop himself from bursting out laughing when he saw 1, pacing back and forth with the swaddled bundle that was Dixie. He hadn't imagined that 7 could ever trust their former leader with anything ever again; and now she was letting him rock her only child to sleep. Well, maybe the sleep-part wasn't working out; instead of settling down, it sounded like the baby was trying very hard to carry on a conversation, and couldn't understand why 1 didn't understand her. Likewise, 1 seemed baffled that Dixie didn't understand what he was saying.

"No, child, you must close your eyes and go to sleep," he was quietly insisting. But Dixie only squealed, cooed and chirped louder in response. 1 made an annoyed face and shook his head… But there was a shade of not-minding-ness in his face.

"Why do you only do this to me? You go to sleep for everyone else. But for me, you stay awake and play games. Contrary, subversive, talkative—confound it, why are you so much like your mother and father? As if they made you for the sole purpose of aggravating me. Because the two of them weren't enough… No, no, don't you make that face at me, young lady… Don't you make that face at me…"

But after another second of her babyish squealing, he sighed and hung his head in defeat. He offered her his fingers to chew on, which she gladly stuffed into her mouth. Her one-sided conversation ended, and he sighed in relief.

"Oh, how can I say no to those eyes? They just had to give you big, intelligent eyes, just like your mother's… Well, I suppose we both win this time, don't we?"

Dixie answered with a wide yawn, but by no means did she let go of his fingers. Once again, he didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed enchanted. It was sort of heartwarming.

6 knew that his sister's heart was also thoroughly warmed through. She allowed herself the quietest laugh she could manage, and turned back to her little brother with a big, proud smile.

"I can't believe sometimes, how much I can love something so small," she sighed, stroking his thick, messy hair. "I hope one day, you get to know what this is like."

6 felt a little star struck, that his big sister could have so much faith in him. He had never imagined himself as a parent, or even being in a reasonable position to have children. He wasn't even entirely sure how children were made in the first place. And anyway, who would be the mother of these imaginary children?

A thought came to him, that there was always 4—the one he adored. But how…?

As if on cue, a stranger burst into the room and skidded to a halt, commanding everyone's attention. He didn't remain a stranger for long, though—he was taller and lankier than 3 had been, but he was dressed in a long blue robe with the hood pulled up, partially obscuring his face. He threw the hood back, revealing a face of clean white cotton, and greeted them all with a huge, proud grin.

"Tada!" flashed his brass-rimmed eyes. "What do you think?"

Everyone gasped in wonder. It really was 3! The transfer had gone according to plan—like they all knew it would. 7 jumped right up and dashed over to her son.

"Oh, look at you!" she cried, giving him an enormous hug. "Don't we look handsome and such?"

"I know, right? I like it, too," 3 agreed. "It feels so comfortable. I hadn't realized until just now, but that little body had gotten really cramped." He circled his shoulders and flexed his arms for emphasis as he continued, "I feel like I can really move around now, you know?"

7 made an odd face and ran her thumb across his cheek. "You're flickering, still," she commented sort of sadly. "I had hoped…"

"Aw, mom, they told you about the voice boxes?" he whined.

"It was my idea," she informed him. She sighed, disappointed, but gave him a motherly smile and another hug. "Oh well. Happy birthday, son."

"Thanks, mom."

Boy, did he look terrific. He was almost as tall as 7, now; one more upgrade, and he would be as tall as everyone else, give or take a millimeter or two. He looked alarmingly normal without his hood on, and 6 got the impression that his friend wouldn't be wearing it as much as he used to. Instead, he looked awfully sharp and mature in his scholarly robe.

But where was 4? If 3 looked this great, surely his sister would return as something too painfully beautiful to look at for long. 6 hoped she would burst into the room as dramatically as her brother had… But 9 came in next, followed by 2.

He had never been so disappointed to see them…

"So, I see you've found the man of the hour," 9 commented with an amused smile. "Impressive, isn't it?"

"You mean to tell me," 1 answered slowly, "that he has done this all himself?"

"Only what you can see," 2 answered helpfully. "Everything within was our work. And we did a bang-up job of it, didn't we," he added, giving 9 a playful punch to the arm.

"Yeah, I suppose we did," the younger man agreed, sheepishly rubbing his arm.

"Huh. Astounding," 1 mumbled thoughtfully. "I hadn't realized the children were so handy with a needle. I shall have to watch out for them."

To that, everyone had to laugh a little; the idea of the twins being dangerous was too ridiculous. But 1 looked around incredulously at them all, not pleased in the slightest.

"It wasn't meant to be humorous," he fumed. He might have stomped his foot and shaken his fist at them, except he was still holding the baby and would have upset her.

"Hey, 9," 5 called from the floor, "don't you have two daughters now?"

"Oh yeah," he answered knowingly, "I suppose that's true."

"So where's the large-ish one? I'm dying to see her."

Finally. That was the first useful thing 5 had said since they had come back to the world of the living. 3 was suddenly so excited, he looked like he might explode.

"Oh my gosh, just wait 'til you see her, you guys!" he flickered. "Mom, I swear, you won't even recognize her. Dad, where did she go? She was right there with you, wasn't she?"

"Give 4 some credit," 9 insisted. "Sometimes, she likes to make an entrance as much as you do."

The sound of a throat being cleared drew their attention to the door, where a very unfamiliar face was peering into the room. It was obviously a girl, from the long rope of brown hair that snaked over her shoulder in a side-swept braid. Her face was sweet and adorable, as was her playful smile. And her silvery eyes sparkled in the firelight, full of life and intelligence.

"Hi, everyone."

6 felt his breath get snatched away. Was that… Could it be?

7 was equally amazed. Her eyes went wide, and her hands flew over her mouth in surprise as she slowly came toward the girl. "No…" she breathed. "That can't be my 4, can it?"

The girl came into the room to meet her, giggling excitedly. "Do you like it, mom?"

"I love it!" she cheered, triumphantly hugging her daughter. "Oh, sweetheart, you look beautiful!"

While other jaws around the room were gaping too wide to say anything, 3 began to laugh. "See? I told you, you wouldn't recognize her. She goes out a little girl, and she comes back a knockout—only my sister," he commented proudly.

4 spun around on her tip-toes—because she could now—and her own blue robe swished around her like a ball gown. It was also slightly off the shoulder, and made her look very elegant. "I'll have to take you on a grand tour later, mom. I've done so many things with this body, it would take me all night to point them all out."

"It suits you so well, 4. So grown up…" 7 sighed shortly and fanned herself with her hand. "Oh, I think I'm going to cry, I'm so proud of you guys."

6 agreed with all of that. He was also very proud of his friends. He also felt like he, too, would start to cry if he looked at 4 much longer. She was simply too pretty to look at. So while the rest of the clan clustered around the twins, asking them questions and admiring their new threads, he remained where he was. Alone by the fireplace, making a very bold attempt not to turn around and look at them. He wanted to… But he was so overwhelmed, he didn't know what else to do with himself.

Another presence suddenly materialized in his personal space; and when he looked up, his mechanical heart nearly stopped entirely. 4 was standing next to him, leaning over with her hands braced against her knees, grinning directly into his face.

"You've been awfully quiet," she teased. "So, what do you think? Do you like this?" she asked earnestly, shaking her thick braid from side to side.

He couldn't think of any words. None at all. All he could think of to do was look away and stare back into the fire, before his eyes exploded or something.

"Oh… It's that bad, huh?"

He stole a quick glimpse of her face and found that it had fallen. He couldn't stand to make her so sad. Gripping his key tightly for comfort, he struggled for the words to defend himself.

"No, no," he stammered, still unable to face her. "Not bad. Just…. You're beautiful."

He imagined she must be smiling again, though still puzzled. "So why won't you look at me?"

"I can't," he whispered. "You're too beautiful."

The next thing he knew, she was kneeling on the floor beside him. She snuggled close to his side and rested her head on his shoulder. She had never been close to him like this; and she had never been so… Forward before. This was still the same 4 he loved, but it wasn't the same 4 he had always known. She had definitely become something much more than a child. Careful not to ruin her brand new body, he slowly put his arm around her as not-awkwardly as he could.

"6, I know what you can give me for my birthday."

"Really? What's that?"

"Well…" She looked up at him with a mischievous smile. "You could kiss me."

Oh darn it. Just when he had begun to feel comfortable, he was paralyzed again. When it became clear that he was too stunned to move, 4 took the situation into her own hands. Her delicate silver fingers gripped his shoulder, pulling his face against hers. She was so soft and warm, just like he always knew she would be. It was so intense and personal, this feeling called love. The only thing worse had been staring his own death in the face, and finding himself able to say it didn't frighten him. She had never inspired such fear in him before…

This was definitely not the 4 he knew, or expected. But ultimately, he didn't mind. In fact, he felt that he could grow used to this quite easily.

"Just think of what we can be now," she flickered softly. "You and I… I and you…"

"Us… We'll be here forever, won't we?"

"Of course we will. I'm not leaving on my own; are you?"

"Not unless you and everyone else are going with me."

She snuggled back against him with a content sigh.

"Forever, then."

2222222222

It seemed that there might never be a constant state of "normal" in their clan. But things seemed to have plateaued as the days grew hot, and June dragged along at a leisurely pace. Mostly, it was simply too hot to run around doing things, causing things to change. No one was growing, no one was really building, and nothing of real interest was happening.

But that was okay with 5. It seemed like all the little, boring things they found to fill their time with were the things he remembered best.

Dixie filled their time especially—she was steadily evolving, and no one wanted to miss even a second of it. Her vocabulary expanded with every day, and she was experimenting with putting words together, only two at a time; rarely, she would attempt a three-word sentence, which always gave 2 a mini-heart attack. She was also starting to recognize the function of numbers, outside the names of her family. She could now say all their names fairly clearly, and figuring out how counting on her fingers and toes was supposed to work. That made 7 extremely proud. Teaching her daughter numbers had been her pet project for months.

Dixie was also starting to move around on her own. She had already been crawling for weeks, and had apparently grown bored with it. She was now pulling herself up using any tall object she could grab onto—the sofa, stacks of books, her parent's mattress, anything at all. The next milestone was supposed to be taking her first steps, while holding onto her support. Instead, she was deviating from the normal path and learning to climb up whatever her support was. A few days earlier, she had succeeded in climbing up onto the sofa all by herself. No one had seen when or how she had done it—one second she had been crawling around on the floor, and when they turned around she was sitting on the sofa.

She seemed to count everyone's surprise and alarm as a good sign, because she squealed and laughed proudly before continuing on up the back of the sofa. While 9 couldn't say he was disappointed, he couldn't say he wasn't worried, either.

"My baby could take over the world, if she wanted to," he commented one afternoon. He and 5 were at their usual habit, walking and talking, tossing a pebble back and forth as they did so. "I mean, her progress is excellent, but it's not normal."

"It's above normal, I should say."

"Yeah, way above. I hope she chooses to use her genius for good instead of evil. This much intelligence on the side of evil could doom us all."

"I guess it already has, in the past."

"True, true… I'm terrified she'll find a way to climb out of her crib, if we leave her alone for too long. If she can pull herself up and climb over the side, it's such a far fall to the floor…"

"You built it too high; you can barely reach her if she's lying down. I don't think she's getting out of there on her own anytime soon."

"Right. She wasn't supposed to be climbing this early, either. Most babies, when they start to climb: they pull themselves up, and then both feet, and then they repeat. But Dixie—oh no, no, no, no, no. she swings her whole leg up and pulls herself up a whole step the first time."

"Sounds like a certain athletic young woman I know. Oh, and there's this really clever guy I know named 9, that she reminds me of, too. Maybe you've heard of him? Nice man, good at figuring things out on his own."

"Okay, okay, I get your point. I'm just… Worried," he insisted, fiddling with the pebble in his hand. "She's my baby. My baby. I made her. She's important to me, and I'm scared she's going to get hurt."

"Children get hurt a lot, just being children. They fall out of trees, hit each other with sticks, skin their knees, get stung and bitten by bugs—it's just what they do. I don't know if they can help it."

"But when they're older, and won't die if another kid hits them with a stick. Dixie's only a baby. If she falls too far, too hard off something, it could seriously hurt her. She could die. That's… That's a really scary thought. And anyway, what parent sends his kid into the world hoping she'll get hit with a stick by another kid? I don't want my precious daughter to get hurt, no matter how old she is."

5 couldn't help smiling, as he patted his brother on the shoulder. "You know, you're really good at being a father. I'm not sure whether you just make it look easy because you're so awesome, or if it just seems easy because Dixie can't sass you yet."

"These days won't last, 5. The sooner she learns to talk properly, the sooner she'll learn to talk back."

No doubt a child that smart would talk back with impeccably perfect grammar, 5 was about to say. But there was a noisy rustling in the tall, thick grass nearby. All around the courtyard, the grass had grown tall enough to hide the feet of the stone muses. Any number of things could be hiding in there. For all they knew, the twins might just be pulling a youthful prank on them—luring their dad and uncle into the tall grass, only to pounce on them. They had gained an uncharacteristic enjoyment of being silly since their birthday.

However, given the other things they knew to be out in the world, they chose to err on the side of caution. Ending their conversation with an understanding nod, they separated and went to circle the statue, each from a different side. As 5 stalked alone into the tall grass, he wondered desperately who or what he would find. He wondered if it was… As badly as he hoped it was, he hoped it wasn't. He was finally feeling like his old self again. It was the very last thing he needed now.

The tall grass ended abruptly, and 5 tumbled out into the shadows behind the statue. He found himself in a sort of tunnel, with the back of the statue and the courtyard wall on either side of him. The space was so small, no sunlight could reach the ground at any time of the day. The ground remained loamy and bare in the perpetual shadow, with only a few pathetic weeds managing to grow in the humidity. Though the June air was still thick and clingy, it was noticeably cooler in the shadow.

And he wasn't alone. A woefully familiar figure greeted his sight, white and pink skin, and frizzy blonde hair all the brighter in the dark. 5 felt his heart plummet to his feet, and he backed away in fear.

"No… Not you again…"

She grinned slyly, amused by his fear.

"It's been a while, 5. Did you miss me?"